


Bed Buggs: Camping with the Boys

by Skafflock



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Supernatural Elements, Survival Horror, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27681308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skafflock/pseuds/Skafflock
Summary: Bed Buggs is an ORAR series of horror novellas written by Skafflock, it features characters from different times, places and historical settings- as well as a variety of different monsters and creatures.Camping with the Boys features a group of friends from Liverpool; Kalin, Scrangey, Cynthia, Ryan, Jake and Noel. After one of them suggests the group spend a fortnight in a woodland mansion owned by her family, they all agree and set off for the get-away. However they soon begin to feel unnerved at the woods. Is it simply their rough and hostile upbringing having instilled paranoia into them, or is something sinister afoot?Updates for Camping with the Boys will be weekly to monthly, however chapters will be released two days earlier on the ORAR discord server.





	Bed Buggs: Camping with the Boys

Kalin didn’t like camping. In fact, the thought of going camping anywhere, much less another fucking country, was one he was very much adversed to. It was for this reason that when Cynthia initially told him of her plans to drag their entire friend group along to spend a fortnight sleeping in a bag and shitting in a field, he wasn’t exactly thrilled. Of course the revelation that said “camping” would be taking place inside an extremely large woodland mansion her family owned in America certainly sweetened the pill, and the thought of having fourteen nights to get on her nerves was really just too delightful to resist.

Though while Kalin needed to be persuaded, he was apparently the only member of the gang who even hesitated. Scrangy, hard-skinned and scarred brawler, seemed downright eager to join the fun, if Kalin didn’t know any better he was quite looking forward to the chance to fight one of the animals in Canada. Noel, platinum blonde with pink skin and light blue eyes hidden behind a pair of spectacles, expressed no small degree of eagerness to explore the woodlands and natural area around the mansion. The short and scruffy Christina had quite recently beaten the shit out of her mother after an argument, and was happy for the chance to get away from Liverpool for a bit, and of course Jake and Ryan wouldn’t dream of being the only ones left behind. The whole ordeal took less than a day, the journey from England to North America a little more than one and a half, and before long they’d departed the airport and rented out a car.

The car was not a particularly expensive one, even the thoroughly affluent and middle-class Cynthia’s parents could be a tad thrifty at times, but it was certainly not slow. And yet travelling across the highways seemed to drag on forever, turning wheels seeming to mirror drills which reached deep into the passenger’s skulls and implanted the realisation of just how huge America was by comparison to England. Though the distance was great, it was only part of the equation for such a considerable journey. The other half was the frequent stops demanded by Scrangey, and fulfilled by Cynthia. A single meal from a restaurant informed Kalin that, much like their films, America’s food was shit. Judging by the thinly veiled distaste on his friend’s faces he gathered that they concurred. However just because he had nothing to gain from food stops, did not mean Scrangy had nothing to gain from America’s “stores”. Before long they had taken no less than half a dozen breaks and Scrangy had filled his luggage, a pair of heavy-duty carrier bags which had almost been empty before, with all sorts of odds and ends. While not quite as skilled at producing improvised explosives or other such “toys” as Cynthia or Kalin, he was very fond of the craft, and Kalin had the sneaking suspicion the woods around the mansion would be subjected to some displays of a decidedly incendiary nature. Even as he pondered this mischievous goal, he took note of a long bundle of wrapped paper- the only item Scrangy had not stashed away in the bags. Going by the widened grin plastering his friend’s face Kalin had a strong suspicion as to what was inside.

In spite of the dilly-dallying, the road began to grow speckled with white as they drove, and soon enough the layers of slush and miniscule patches of snow grew until they carpeted the entirety of the land around them.. Cynthia had waxed lyrical about the Wisconsin woodland’s beauty, Noel certainly seemed to agree with her on it, and as he watched the landscape blur past the windows for a while Kalin couldn’t help but find himself similarly stricken by the astonishing majesty of it all. The majority of the trees they passed were evergreen, though even with their leaves retained the only colour they held was the white of the snow clinging to them. Spliced between these were the regular trees, hard and spindly, standing thin yet reaching tall, most of them with greyed trunks and branches having been long since robbed of their leaves by the biting cold- naked but for the snow lining them from above. After a few minutes the car pulled up to a large clearing, housing what Kalin presumed would be the building they stayed in. It was close to dark and the sun was two thirds to the horizon, allowing its light to dance across the crystalised water coating the ground of the glade and make it almost into a sea of molten gold. Clumps of white dropped from above with far more weight than any drift could have in England, yet as Noel pointed out quite happily it seemed they were arriving on the tail-end of the real storm. 

The mansion itself lay half-way into this golden lake, some twenty metres from the treelines surrounding it. The road led all the way up to the drive of the building, stopping six metres before the base. The structure was fourty feet tall, slightly overtaking most of the trees- though it was hard to tell due to the distance between it and them, and its width from one wall to the next was half that of the glade. Made from dark, almost purple, wood and chiseled with thick and sloped walls, it looked as though it had been constructed to withstand a hurricane- in fact with the wood’s hue so greatly resembling bruised flesh Kalin couldn’t help but feel as though it had. The roof was completely enveloped in snow, hanging out a few feet past the walls on which it lay with a few icicles dripping from the overhang.

Not wanting to remain sitting in the car any longer than necessary, Kalin turned to the driving seat Cynthia currently occupied.

“Gimme the key, I want to stretch my legs and we’re basically already there.”

Cynthia’s patience was certainly one of her virtues, the platinum-haired woman had skin nearly as pale as the snow and eyes of a dark brown. A little older than Kalin, her face was a sculpted angular beauty- and one that had spent the majority of the trip in a statuesque state of tranquility and immovability. Seeing it animated as she turned to speak felt almost surprising after hours of its near-total stillness.

“Can you seriously not wait another minute to drive up?”, her voice carried the same casual irritation it always held when she wasn’t sure whether someone was doing something just to annoy her or not.

“No,” Kalin replied, “I can’t. Maybe it’s easy for your highness to sit still for hours on end, but I want to move about asap. Gimme.”

He held out his hand, and with a roll of her eyes Cynthia fished the key out of her pocket and relinquished it to Kalin. She glanced to the back of the car where their remaining friends were seated.

“Anyone want to join him?”

Scrangy grinned and raised his hand.

Kalin was able to easily get out through the passenger-side door at the front, however Scrangey needed to climb over Ryan to make his way onto the snow, something made even harder with his hands encumbered by the great plastic bags he’d filled. The containers rustled and crumpled in the wind as he walked by Kalin’s side, both of them quickly overtaking the car as it went from the well-used road to the long-since-abandoned and snow-covered driveway of the mansion. Their pace was spurred into haste by the biting chill on the air, icy teeth sinking deep into their flesh and grazing the bones beneath. Kalin had dressed warm, but apparently not warm enough. Scrangy, being Scrancy, still wore the same torn t-shirt he always did. Kalin wasn’t sure whether he could even feel the cold or not, though it wouldn’t surprise him if he’d simply not noticed the frosty air- he had once watched as Scrangey punched a bollard without even noticing his hand was broken. Scrangy was not a tall man, coming up to perhaps Kalin’s ear, yet he carried what must have been several kilograms in each arm as though he didn’t even register the weight. His tea-stained hands kept a firm grip in spite of the cold as he flashed a grin, revealing a row of yellowed teeth which, in their half-chipped state, combined with his scarred and wolfishly hard face to very much resemble the jagged fangs of a carnivorous beast. 

“What do ye reckon’, Sparky?” Even though they were both twenty, Scrangey used Kalin’s childhood nickname as if he were still the impulsive child who used to run around starting fires.

“What do I think about what?”

Scrangey nodded towards the mansion.

“That. What are ye thoughts? I don’t like it meself.”

Kalin frowned at that, even for a Liverpool boy Scrangey had a paranoid streak wider than the rest of his personality combined. What looked like a normal building, such as the one they now approached, to one person would very much resemble a potential ambush to him. Kalin grinned as he answered.

“Oh come off it, we’re not even in the same country. Who’s going to want to get you out here? Unless you were a bigger cunt than usual to some of the shopkeepers?”

Scrangy’s grin folded away, he looked annoyed as he retorted.

“Pah. I still don’t like it.”

They took a few more steps in silence, approaching the half-way point. Kalin glanced over his shoulder to the car, smiling with satisfaction at the sight of it having barely made a third of their progress in lieu of the unaccommodating ground. 

“What are you planning on making, by the way?” Kalin asked, more concerned his friend would accidentally burn down the mansion with them inside it than curious. Scrangey for his part was usually happy to be up-front about his plans, and today, it seemed, was no exception.

“I’ve got some styrofoam plates, few cases o’ screws an’ nails, some other shite.”

“So the usual?”

Scrangy nodded.

“This country’s fuckin’ brilliant, it’s like every shop they ‘ave is an’ offie!”

Styrofoam meant napalm, and nails meant fragmentation explosives, but it wasn’t as bad as it could be. Given the lack of mustard gas or any of the more cruel things he could’ve made, Scrangey was more than likely planning on just setting off a few explosives for entertainment like fireworks. Satisfied, Kalin felt no urge to ask anything more of his friend until they reached the doorway. It was a bit bigger than a regular one, perhaps seven feet tall, and the frame was occupied by what would be better described as a wall of wood than a door. The keyhole was not rusted, and it lacked a demonic looking knocker, but the way it opened with a creaking groan was unforgivably stereotypical of such an elderly establishment’s entrance. 

The light of the sun was stifled somewhat by the clouds of snow between it and the ground, and in its nearly-setting position it struck the mansion from the right rather than the front, but the illumination which streamed inside once the door was opened showed just how dim its interior was. Stretching out across the planked floor and casting long shadows from Kalin and Scrangy, the tongue of sunlight revealed a well-preserved yet clearly uninhabited area. He hadn’t expected it to be freshly cleaned, after all Cynthia had made it quite clear that her family, while the owners, had not used the mansion in years. A few ust particles were clearly visible in the air, though the floor and handful of other surfaces that were close enough to be visible seemed to be quite devoid of any grime. He imagined it had been swept quite recently, unless Cynthia’s family had uncharacteristically forked over an abundance of cash for a caretaker to maintain a building they weren’t using. The kitchen was fully equipped with utilities, including electrical appliances such as a fridge and washing machine, and had a large counter running parallel to it- almost like a bar. There was no wall separating it from any other area of the floor, in fact the entire ground level seemed to be one great room. Either the wind breaking against the walls made the interior feel warmer than it was, or it was insulated enough to be marginally less frigid than the outside- though either way it was certainly far too cold to be comfortable, even fully clothed.

By the time Kalin realised he’d been standing on the spot and staring, Scrangey had already dumped his goodie-bags down by the door.

“Do ye see a light switch anywhere?”

Kalin took a glance around, but it was hard to make out small details like that in the gloom. It certainly did not help that the only light source was coming in through the doorway from directly behind him, failing to reach anywhere close to the corners of the ground floor. It wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t make out vague shapes, and closed curtains were clearly visible on each wall.

“Nope, try and open the blinds.” Scrangy nodded and turned to Kalin’s right, so he went to the left. The curtains were close to the bar area, and as he drew them apart the resulting illumination revealed the kitchen floor was fully tiled- possibly the only thing clearly separating it from the next section. Kalin had seen the silhouette of a table and chairs in the gloom, but with new light pouring in it was much more clear to him- heavyset and carved from wood, the furniture in the dining area seemed just as sturdy as the entrance. 

Looking across, he saw Scrangy had bathed the living space in the sun, revealing a room which seemed more obviously dated than those Kalin had illuminated. Old furniture lay spread out in many directions- armchairs, sofas and what looked like some recliners. The area was not carpeted, but there was a large rug which seemed to have been discoloured by the years and was set in the middle of the furniture some five feet away from a fireplace. Adjacent to the hearth lay a television, at least it looked like a television. One of the incredibly old box-variants, rather than a flat-screen. Kalin remembered his parents had one when he was very young, yet he’d never seen another before this one in years.

“Jesus Fuck,” Scrangey called out from across the room. “Looks like me fuckin’ nan’s ‘ouse.”

He wasn’t wrong, save for a single small detail.

“Didn’t your nan have a dead snake nailed to the ceiling?” He projected back, voice carrying quite well through the sixty feet separating him and his friend. Scrangy’s face was just about visible, scrunched up in thought. Finally he answered.

“Yeah, I reckon’ she did actually. Apart from tha’ though, it feels right like ‘ome.”

Kalin began walking over, eager to see what else he could make out about the living room.

“Do you want to go and find a snake, then? Make this place a bit more comfortable?”

Scrangey laughed.

“I appreciate ye offerin’, but I don’ reckon ye’ll find any snakes in this weather. Not even sure where me nan found ‘ers, who ever ‘eard of a snake in fuckin’ Liverpool?”

They continued chatting away for a few more minutes before movement at the door drew their attention, it was Christina.

Christina was not a tall woman, at around five foot and one inch, but what she lacked in statute she more than made up for in hardiness. She had auburn hair cut jankily and uneven due to being trimmed by her own hand, Kalin had picked up the same practice but unlike him it seemed Christina did not care to be neat and careful about it. Her clothing, much like Scrangey’s, looked as though it had been stolen from a homeless man, specifically a man, though Christina’s relationship with her mother had caused her to spend many a night sleeping rough and on her own, so unlike Scrangey she had an excuse. Her face was a pretty one, in the same way a well-maintained combat knife was pretty, and her eyes were such a deep and intense green that it took a moment for Kalin to clock the fact they were narrowed in annoyance. When she spoke it was with a distinct Scouse accent, however after years of hearing Scrangey’s inflections Kalin’s ears registered it as almost identical to Cynthia’s upper-class tongue.

“We’ve parked, idiots. Come and help with moving the luggage indoors.”

She turned on her heel and disappeared from the doorway without so much as another word, though that was quite a Christina exit for her to have made, so Kalin wasn’t particularly shocked. He glanced at Scrangey, seeing that his friend had already started towards the door. The brawler was a difficult person to motivate, outside of his own seemingly irresistible whims, but Christina had a way of making him comply with her requests like no other. Kalin went along too, exiting first due to being closer to the door.

The end of the drive, it seemed, was not something they could park on. The last leg of the space between the woods and the mansion was a rather steep slope, and while easy enough to scale on foot- in the already friction-opposed snow which caked the land all around them a car had no hope of making it up. As a result Cynthia had relinquished the space to nature, settling for a spot some fifteen feet further from the house and closer to the treeline. 

The car had been specifically chosen for its large storage, as while the mansion had been fully stocked with a large amount of food by Cynthia’s family before they arrived- the group had all decided that they had plenty they wanted to bring along. Scrangy’s bags of mischief were one example, but favourite foods, a few games consoles and an inflatable sex doll of admittedly exceptional quality which Cynthia only discovered upon arrival had all made their way into the boot. This, combined with the distance from the car to the house being a full two thirds greater than it should have been, meant that it took a solid five minutes of all seven of them unloading before they had even half-finished their task. And then mid-way through the process a delay came up. As he lifted Kalin’s 24-pack of pepsi from the back, Ryan discovered quite a surprising package. Someone had packed a very large rifle. Noel, who was the closest to the car, was the first to know. However mere seconds after his arrival the entire group converged on the car to take a look at the weapon, including Scrangey- who was apparently, if rather predictably, responsible for bringing it.

Cynthia was not happy.

“Why the fuck did you think we’d need this?!” She demanded, pale face having gained a pink flush from her irritation- Kalin loved it when that happened. Scrangey for his part stood his ground, unflinching in the face of the shit storm descending upon him.

“We’re ou’ in the middle a’ nowhere. I figured it’d be a good place to let off a few rounds.”

He said it as though he were informing her of what time it was. Cynthia appeared to rear up in preparation for one of her lectures, but was interrupted by Noel.

“Hang on Scrangey” he started, voice remarkably level given the situation, “how did you get this? I thought really big guns cost thousands of dollars.”

Scrangy’s face had been wearing a grin for the entire conversation thus far, and it widened at this. They all got the message.

“You stole a fucking assault rifle?” It was Jake’s turn to question this time. Scrangey’s reply was short and simple.

“Yes.”

“And what if you were found out? How did you even- do you have any fucking idea-”

Ryan, Jake and Cynthia had all begun ranting simultaneously this time- their words merging together and drowning each other out. Scrangy seemed completely unaffected, if perhaps slightly bored, by the barrage of condemnations. Kalin was actually quite glad the trio were being as loud as they were though, if they were any quieter he would be at risk of them overhearing what laughs he and Christina failed to suppress. Of the seven, he and her were the only ones who most regularly interacted with Scrangey. Kalin wasn’t surprised he brought a gun, if anything it was more shocking his friend hadn’t somehow managed to steal a grenade launcher instead. A quick glance at Cynthia’s contorted features confirmed his suspicions- that she had built up sufficient momentum to continue her reprimand for some time- and opted to continue shifting the group’s luggage around her. Noel and Christina joined him after only a few moments, whether to hurry up the job and remove themselves from the weather’s glare or to escape the volume of Cynthia, Jake and Ryan’s composite beratement, he wasn’t sure.

It was another minute before Ryan and Jake grew tired of seeing Scrangey’s face remain unshifting against their words, and four more before Cynthia cut her own voice off. The delay was more than enough for Kalin’s liking, and by the time they had finished unloading the car the cold had seeped deeply enough through even his winter clothing that it overwhelmed even the heat his muscles had built with their exertion. When it was finally time to step inside the mansion for good, the door having been open throughout the labour had robbed it of the petty warmth it had. Cynthia took great relish in directing them to the light switch, a few inches next to the fridge, however her smug self-satisfaction appeared diminished at the jeers of her family being stupid for putting it there, and her smirk vanished entirely when it failed to turn on upon being switched.

“I don’t understand” she grumbled, “I thought my idiot family’s cleaners would have left the electricity on- it was only a few hours before we got here.”

“Ah yes,” Ryan chirped in, “because you’re all famous for letting the little things, like a few hours of electricity, go.”

Whatever retort Cynthia had planned, perhaps a violent decapitation, was interrupted by Jake speaking up to redirect her ire from his friend. Standing next to the rather thin Ryan, Jake looked outright bulbous- his fleshy face had reddened far more than any others from the exercise of moving their luggage. Despite his average height and portly frame, when he spoke it was with a confidence that drew in both attention and consideration.

“How do we get the power back on, then? I’d rather do it sooner than later, and I think we only have about half an hour before dark.”

Cynthia glanced at her watch before answering.

“Twenty minutes actually, and there’s a generator in a shed on the west side of the mansion. There’s a lever you need to pull to start it up, might take two people if it’s stuck. Or one Scrangey.”

All eyes turned to the Scrangey in question, who was rather characteristically lounging on the floor with a lit cigarette sticking out from between his scabbed over lips. His eyes reflected the light of the door as they flickered to the others.

“I’m no’ goin’ outside, jus’ got comfortable.”

Kalin knew that if he were to avoid the duty being delegated to him, he had only a moment to speak his case before the bickering buried whatever logic he mustered, and within half of that moment he’d found an excuse for himself.

“I was one of the ones who spent some extra time carrying the luggage while you three-” he gestured to Cynthia, Ryan and Jake- “were bitching Scrangey out. I’m off the hook.”

Just as the trio in question began to inflate with argumentation, Noel cut in.

“I’m happy to go, as long as you all set up a fire by the time I’m back. How far did you say it was?”

Cynthia betrayed no hint of relief, save for a slight exhalation. Kalin had known her for long enough to identify this as her equivalent of leaping up and down with joy.

“I didn’t say,” she responded, voice having lost some of its usual cool during the earlier talks. “It’s about three hundred metres into the woods, pretty easy to spot since it’s orange.”

Noel blanched.

“Ah, right. Yeah…. Forest… uh, so you need someone else to come along and turn the-”

Christina rolled her eyes and stepped up.

“Jesus Christ, I’ll come with you. I even brought a spare tampon for that massive fucking pussy you’ve got, let’s go.”

Without another word she moved to the door and trudged out with the same gait she’d honed to the height of aggression after years of expecting to be challenged mid-way through each and every doorway. Decidedly more hesitant and sheepish, Noel followed her out- closing the door behind him and robbing the middle section of the floor of its light.

Kalin didn’t know how long Noel and Christina were gone, however it was more than enough time for the fireplace to be both ignited and fuelled by several split chunks of wood piled next to it. 

Soon enough the five remaining had all closed in to within a metre of each other, drawn inward by the tantalising warmth of the flames and finally able to shed their insulated coats. It didn’t take much time for the room to dim as the petty light from the windows faltered with the setting sun, and soon shadows were cast behind every three dimensional object in the room- then made to dance along with the flickering fire. Kalin grinned as he sat there, his friends chatted away next to him but for the moment he was content to simply savour the sensation of warmth bleeding down through his skin and into the muscle and bones of his previously shivering form. He hadn’t been warm for long when the room was filled with light once more, this time from the bulbs of the ceiling rather than the blaze of the wall. The great oak door was once more opened wide, this time a great howling wind leapt into the building the moment its path was clear. Kalin turned to eye up the returning duo, noting in the newly-produced illumination that their bodies had been highlighted by snow- even more of which was being carried inside by the gust. He didn’t have a watch and there were no clocks in sight but he had a feeling they’d been longer than planned. Ryan was the first to speak.

“Close the damn door, it’s only just started to warm up in here.” 

Christina obliged without answering while Noel, short blonde hair and glasses flaked with snow, made a beeline for the leaping inferno. As he grew closer Kalin saw a peculiar hue animating his skin, an odd mix of pink and pale. He did not look happy, nor did Christina- but then it was a very unusual occasion indeed when she did. The chatting began to pick up around the fire once more, however Noel didn’t seem to want to join in- and judging by his nervous fidgeting he was not simply planning on relaxing like Kalin.

“Noel, you alright mate?” Inquired Jake, apparently sharing Kalin’s concern. Noel nodded his head quickly, perhaps the least convincing performance Kalin had ever seen.

“Just tell them” Christina cut in. Every face around the fire seemed to frown, now Kalin was curious.

“Tell us what?” Jake continued, seeming more determined for an answer this time. Noel glanced at him before licking his lips, apparently deciding it was worth confiding before he answered.

“Alright.” He began. “It’s really nothing that important though, it’s just something that happened while we were walking. We were about half-way to the generator shed when the wind picked up outside, and it started snowing way more. Not sure if you could tell by how much followed us inside but it was insanely heavy, and the way it was being blown around made it almost impossible to see anything more than a few metres in front of us.” 

He paused before continuing, either trying to make sure he still had everyone’s attention or hoping they’d tell him to stop. Nobody said anything until he continued again.

“Well anyway, we stuck together and could still tell which direction we were going so it wasn’t too hard to find our way, but on the walk back I felt like I was being watched.”

Christina chipped in now, her voice and face completely level as usual.

“He kept looking over his shoulder and asking me if I heard things.”

Noel bristled.

“There are wolves in Wisconsin, in fact the most recent estimates put the number at two hundred and fifty packs minimum.”

She snorted at this, eyebrows arcing with her response.

“Weren’t you the one who went on about how huge most wolf packs territory is in the car? You probably just heard the wind.”

“I know that!” He snapped, suddenly seeming a little redder and decidedly less pale. “I’m just telling you what I thought at the time, so don’t go-” he faltered then stopped.

“Don’t go what?” Kalin asked.

Noel’s response was a mumbled “nevermind”. Kalin was not satisfied.

“Christina, what does he mean?”

“Just drop it.”

There was a hint of hostility in Noel’s tone this time, and it occurred to Kalin that he was pressing for information his friend would really rather not share.

“Alright,” he quickly replied “yeah, that’s fine. Sorry.”

Noel just nodded while the group bathed in the newly produced silence. A few moments later it was broken by Scrangey.

“So are there really wolves n’ shite ‘round ‘ere?”

Cynthia rolled her eyes.

“In the state? Yeah, we’ve already been over this.”

Scrangy shook his head.

“Nah, I mean’ ‘round where we are now.”

“Oh. Then yes, at least there was a pack nearby about ten years ago when my uncle still lived here. Might have moved on since, though it might’ve gotten closer considering there hasn’t been anybody actually living in the mansion for a decade.”

Scrangey’s face lit up at this, his scarred features breaking into one of his savage grins.

“Cool.”

Kalin was quite sure that Scrangey planned on having a look for the pack, he never could resist a fight- having once beaten a stray dog into the dirt- and he had a habit of taking a creature being dangerous as a personal challenge. This was the main reason Ryan, Jake and Noel didn’t meet up and hang out with him as frequently as Kalin, Cynthia and Christina.

“Is that why you brought the fucking assault rifle?” Ryan shot. Scrangey grunted before replying.

“Nah, I don’ wanna jus’ go around killin’ things. If I’m gonna ‘ave a scrap then it’ll be a proper fight, guns are fer yanks an’ twats.”

Ryan seemed slightly perplexed at Scrangey’s response, like Jake and Noel he was from a middle class family- and unlike Cynthia his middle-class upbringing had not been tempered with particularly Scouse friends. Kalin doubted he caught more than two thirds of what Scrangey said, of course even two words from every three were enough for context to fill in the blanks. 

“Oh yeah,” Jake asked, turning to Cynthia as he did so, “what are your plans for entertainment while we’re here?” Cynthia leaned forwards, plucking a small log from beside the fire and pushing it into the slightly declining blaze before replying.

“Well there’s no internet, in case you couldn’t tell, but there are some DVD players and T.Vs scattered around the house. Plus an entire winter fucking wonderland.”

Jake showed his appreciation for the snippy response by demonstrating the length of his middle finger, which in turn started Cynthia off slinging more insults and cutting into him with her razor tongue. They continued like that for some time before Kalin and a few others decided her head was getting too big, joining in to shrink it down a bit. And soon enough the group was bickering, laughing and grinning by the warmth of the crackling flames. Bringing out the first of their not insubstantial supply of snacks, they continued their revelry while eating for some hours- only being stopped and forced upstairs to sleep once the pile of spare firewood had finally been depleted completely.

**Author's Note:**

> Experimenting with a new style of writing time lapses, janky currently but hopefully I'll be able to improve pacing as I practice with it.
> 
> My word count is still, and probably always will be, inflated -_-
> 
> Either way, this is my first attempt at writing a thriller/horror story. I suppose it's far too early to tell whether I'm any good or not, given that nothing's happened just yet even on the level of atmospherics. Criticism is very appreciated.


End file.
